Deeply Etched Against Tired Hearts: DEATH
by Draiq
Summary: He smiled dimly; was there something strange about his most treasured of enemies? Malfoy was definitely not the same as he used to be; he had become tattered, wavering, and yet darkly more dangerous than he had ever been before... M, Yaoi/Slash, H/D
1. Small Smile

Hiya people!

This is my first H/D fic, and I think (though I can never be sure) that I have found a new way of writing this pairing so that it's not the same old story you read everytime! XD I hope you can enjoy this journey with me! XD

**Disclaimer:** I do not, repeat, do NOT own any of the characters or places! If I did the true story of Harry Potter would look like all of that writing down there XD

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Looking out over the snow covered grounds below him, Harry briefly wondered if there was any true law to the way people worked. Was there a right way to do things? A wrong way? If so, how many wrong ways had he found over the years to approach people, compared to the dismal amount of right ways?

He knew he wasn't tactful; he didn't pull any punches or mind his words. But why should he? It was the way he had been born; his years of pain and suffering had infused him with a tremendous sense of loathing to those around him. He had no patience for kindness, no words for redemption, no time for embarrassment or shame. Little did he care if he hurt the feelings of those around him.

He realised he was callous, but there was nothing he could do to change that. He reasoned that if he had survived it all, others surely could overcome their own oppressive trials.

Of course, he found himself wondering if everyone around him actually mattered. Why did he fulfil these stupid quests? Was it fame, wealth? The joy of overcoming insurmountable odds?

No, he simply had nothing to do.

Horrid as it may sound he did the things he did not from some inbred sense of duty to those around him. No, he did it simply because he could. He had no misguided conceptions of his own twisted reasoning.

Now he was simply bored. Christmas holidays were here, and he finally felt almost perfectly alone within the dark and cold stone walls of the castle. He had chosen not to go back this year. Voldemort be damned, he would rather face the Dark Lord than have to stay another night under the same roof as his so called 'family'.

With a sigh he reflected on the whereabouts of his two 'friends'. He was amazed they had stomached him for this long. Ron was staying with his family for the holidays, as was Hermione.

Harry moved from his place sitting on the cold windowsill, winding his way through the castle only half paying attention as he went. There weren't many students left, though there were far more Slytherins than any other house. Harry guessed it was that they, like him, had a love for the castle when it was devoid of all its most obnoxious students.

He liked the Slytherins more than his fellow Griffindors; they were far quieter, and much slyer; you could never tell what a Slytherin was thinking.

Harry found his feet taking him towards the library. He didn't find it surprising; reading was one of the few activities he truly enjoyed. He moved towards the back of the huge chamber, claiming himself a comfortable looking armchair near the restricted section.

With barely a glance he flicked a finger, thinking to himself 'Accio _Poisonous Potion Procedures_.' He felt the familiar tug as the book refused to be removed from its shelf, and pushed it, pulling the book from its protective spells with a barely audible 'POP'. It sailed towards him at an alarming speed, though Harry caught it gracefully, resting the large restricted tomb in his lap as he opened it to the last page he had read.

"I saw that Potter." I sleek voice said from behind him, alighting on his ears as little more than a whisper, the owner moving around to lean against a book shelf where Harry could see him.

"As did I Malfoy, what is your point?"

"Wandless magic is my point Potter. Highly unorthodox…also highly against the rules."

Harry snorted, "since when do I follow the rules?"

The Malfoy simply smiled, nodding slightly to accede the point.

"So while we're having an almost civil conversation Malfoy, why are you still in the castle when you could be at home basking in the luxury of what I'm sure would be the world's most expensive architecture?" He closed the huge book, resting his finger in it as a marker as he trained his eyes on the boy before him.

They weren't quite so vicious to each other without others around, it was a strange but compelling phenomenon, one Harry wished to test the limits of, if it were not for his little remaining sense getting in the way.

"I simply had no wish to return home." The Slytherin said offhandedly; brushing aside the comment as though it were just another intrepid complaint about the weather.

Looking him over, Harry noticed for the first time that he was looking drawn, and nowhere near as vibrant as he once had. His hair was still glossy and neat, though it covered half of his eyes at its current length. He was still a tall figure; as proud as his father had once been, though now he seemed to stoop slightly; his thin frame leaning against the wood of the shelves more for support than for a love of the stance.

Ignoring Harry's eyes on him Malfoy nodded towards the book. "Poisonous Potion Procedures?" he asked with a wry smile, "why a book on potions when you clearly have no skill for the art?"

Harry was amazed the slim teenager was still with him; it had to have been one of the longest conversations they'd ever had. With a small smile he replied, "perhaps I am better at potions than you think."

The Malfoy snorted, "I'll remind you of that when you blow up your next cauldron Potter." He nodded briefly and swept away, pausing before he was completely out of earshot, "until dinner, Potter." And then he was gone; leaving Harry in the library, once again alone.

He smiled dimly; was there something strange about his most treasured of enemies? Malfoy was definitely not the same as he used to be; he had become tattered, wavering, and yet darkly more dangerous than he had ever been before.

Harry had witnessed the change; he saw it. Malfoy was not the boy he used to be. He was also like no young man Harry had ever known; he was to be feared, yet in a strange way trusted.

Harry felt a strange sense of kinship towards his haggard enemy; together they had evolved. They spoke pleasantly enough when alone; each gleaning facts about the other that they would later use to lay them to waste. They were not friends; they never could be. They were the perfect enemies; shaping each other into the only thing that could truly rile their cooling hearts.

They were fire.

They were passion.

They were the heat.

The flame.

The anger that blinded.

They were the only ones who were close to understanding the other.

But Harry's fire was dying out.

Where was that strong enemy now?

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Alrighty, I hope there are at least a few readers who like it so far! XD

Also, by 'Harry's fire' I do not mean HIS fire (his will to fight), I mean the fire that belongs to him. –wink- I hope you can work it out XD

Please review! You've made it this far, is it that much harder to push the button?


	2. Slippery Snake

Hiya again peeps!

For me this is an uber quick update, but it was begging to be written XD I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** naturally, it doesn't belong to me.

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Time dragged on as Harry read the book nestled in his lap, and all too soon it was time for him to return to the dining hall. With a soft sigh he sent the book back to where it belonged, standing to dust himself off he left the library at a lazy stroll.

There weren't many Griffindors left in the school, and only one of his friends remained. Neville ate with him every day, though the boy was getting steadily shyer under the gaze of the many Slytherins that sat with them.

With the student populous sharply decreased the house elves had started setting up only one large table in the centre of the dining hall, where all the students sat and ate together. For those with strong house allegiances it was a tenuous situation. Fortunately Harry wasn't one of them, he didn't care.

In fact he was enjoying it a lot more than the usual table full of rowdy Griffindors. The Slytherins were sly and treacherous, and all jumped at the chance of a verbal battle with him. He loved going head to head with the slippery snakes; it didn't matter who won; it was the thrill of the fight that warmed his blood.

Sitting at his usual place beside a nervous Neville Harry frowned; the seat across from him was empty.

Malfoy sat across from Harry.

He shrugged, figuring the unruly teen was simply late, and dug into the feast laid before him. With a knowing smile he noticed Blaise Zabini move to sit next to Neville, who gave a small squeak of surprise.

"Blaise." Harry acknowledged, nodding in his direction.

Blaise smiled at him and piled food onto his plate like a man who hadn't eaten in a month. "So what's up Neville?" He asked around a mouth full of sausage, "how's the Flitterbloom going?"

Neville looked up sharply, mumbling something unintelligible. Harry elbowed him in the ribs, a laugh threatening to burst from him at the others nervousness.

"How did you know about it?" Neville eventually managed, eyes still on his plate.

Blaise shrugged, "I heard you talking about it to Potter yesterday, I was just wondering how it was going. I'm quite partial to Herbology myself, I was just thinking it would be hilarious if someone unknowingly stumbled on that plant; think of their horror." He smiled, shovelling more food into his mouth hungrily.

Neville's eyes grew wide as he looked up, "You know about the plant?"

Blaise nodded absently, "sure, looks just like Devil's Snare, harmless as a fly in reality."

Neville beamed, "that's right!"

Harry smiled, turning away from the now eagerly talking boys. He should have known Zabini would find some way to approach Neville; the boy had been watching him across the table like a hawk for the last few days. A very hungry hawk.

Harry stifled a snort, but looked up worriedly as he finished his meal.

His enemy was still missing.

Hadn't he said he would see him at dinner? Harry excused himself from the table, wandering back towards the library slowly. It wasn't right, he felt almost empty without the prospect of a heated argument to spur him on. He found he had no real drive behind his steps, and instead was wandering aimlessly down the halls.

He wound up down in the dungeons, enjoying the chill of the air. Idly he wondered if he'd run into Snape; he did enjoy their 'discussions'. More so when he got the professor alone; he was much less snarky that way.

He wound up looking at a large painting of a bowl of fruit without truly noticing how he had managed to get there. He contemplated visiting Dobby, but grimaced and turned away; he didn't have the patience tonight.

He needed some excitement; something to do. He heard footsteps echo down the eerie halls and then the slam of a door; someone must have just returned to the Slytherin dorm.

A sudden gleam lit his eyes as he turned to pull his cloak from his bag, throwing it about his shoulders and disappearing.

He waited outside the entrance to the door quietly, and followed the next person inside. Dimly he wondered what to do next, he had hoped his adversary would be here, but looking around the cold room he couldn't see his graceful form draped in an emerald armchair, as he had expected to find him.

He'd never been further inside the dorm than the main common room, so he didn't truly know where to start his search. He trailed towards the stairs to his left, ambling up them as he passed doors leading into difference rooms. He was beginning to despair with his stupid idea of finding Malfoy when he spotted a door with the letters D.M. inscribed on it.

The thought crossed his mind fleetingly that he shouldn't barge in on the boy in his own room, but the silence coming from within and the lack of the blond Slytherin at the dinner table had him at odds, and he quickly found himself brushing aside the notion to leave.

"Alohomora" he muttered quietly, pushing the door open gently as he moved inside.

Malfoy was nowhere to be seen as Harry gave the room a quick once over. Once again it hit him how stupid it was to come all the way here just because he was bored. He turned to leave, figuring he would go back and break into the library, and borrow that book for the night.

He was almost out of the door when he heard a loud smash; as though something made of glass had broken, and then a softly muttered curse issuing from Malfoy's adjoining bathroom.

Curious, he turned back towards the bathroom, creeping closer quietly so the teen wouldn't hear his footfalls on the cold stone floor. What met his eyes as he rounded the corner though was hardly what he had been expecting.

Malfoy was sat on the floor, tipping a vile of sickly green liquid down his throat with a peaceful look on his face.

Harry startled, and before Malfoy could swallow drew his wand and shouted "Anapneo!"

His eyes flying wide Malfoy's mouth flew open, green liquid bursting back out and dripping down his chin as he coughed and spluttered, doubled over from the pain.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief; it was a breathing spell, but it had done the trick. "Aguamenti" he stated; poring a jet off cold water over the teen with a small smile of satisfaction at the curses he received.

"Potter?!" The dripping boy demanded, rising to his feet seething with anger, "what the hell are you doing here?! And why did you drench me you damn prig!" he almost screamed, smashing the vile on the floor in his anger.

Harry simply raised his wand again, muttering a quiet "stupefy".

Malfoy crumpled to the floor, a shocked look on his face before he lost consciousness.

"Stupid prat!" Harry muttered, drying to boy off with a quick spell before slinging him over his shoulder and placing the cloak around them both, "thank god I came Malfoy…" he sighed quietly, "thank god I came…"

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Well, there ya go XD I hope it was okay!

Please push the button and tell me what you think!


	3. Sharp Slumber

Hiya peeps!

Goodness, it's been a while since I updated, I'm super sorry! I've been in bed all week sick with a cartilage inflammation XZ but enough about me, onto the story!

Oh, btw, I just realised I forgot to tell a timeline for this! O.o It's set in their sixth year, but nothing of that year from the books is in it…er…I hope that make sense to everyone XD

**Disclaimer:** I do not, repeat, do NOT own anything affiliated with Harry Potter! If I did I would keep him chained in a room with Draco until they found some 'common ground' XD

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Harry dropped his burden unceremoniously on the cool ground, clearing away the snow with a quick flick of his wand so they could sit in a small circle of cleared, crisp grass. It was constantly amazing him how it managed to survive as green as ever beneath the thick blanket of snow every winter; he wondered if it was grown specifically by Hagrid to withstand all weather.

He sat down heavily beside the pale boy, leaning his body so that it was propped against a tree behind him. With a sigh he turned back towards the expanse of lake before him, watching as a lone bird walked over the ice collected at its edge.

He'd brought Malfoy here because it was quiet; and very few of the schools remaining occupants would be out in this cold weather. He also wanted a chance to talk to the boy alone; leaving him in others care or by himself now was not a good idea. He knew the cold would wake his rival soon.

After a short while the prone boy beside him groaned painfully, coughing and retching as he doubled over in pain. After a few moments of rubbing his neck and taking calming breaths he turned toward the boy beside him wide eyed. "Potter?!"

Harry grinned at him, "morning Princess, sleep well?"

Malfoy growled, standing quickly as he turned to storm off.

"Incarcerous." Harry muttered quietly, flicking his wand absently in Malfoy's direction.

"Oomph!"

The teen glared at him as Harry ordered the ropes binding him to hold him still against the tree.

Harry turned back towards the lake, keenly aware of the angry Slytherin's glare.

After what felt like an age Malfoy sighed. "What do you want Potter?" he demanded in an agitated voice, "and you can release the damn ropes now, I'm not going anywhere."

Harry nodded, releasing the restraints that bound the teen, "Your throat will probably be sore for a while, but I didn't have time to think of a more appropriate spell, I'm sorry."

Malfoy sighed, sitting himself more comfortably against the tree beside the other boy, watching the lake with him.

"I don't mind. How did you even get into the Slytherin dorm?" he asked quietly, somewhat trying to shirk that actual conversation he knew was to come.

"Invisibility cloak." Harry stated mildly, "I had to follow a student in this time though; since I don't know the new password."

Malfoy laughed, "don't know the new one? How long have you been able to get in? And where on earth did you get an Invisibility cloak?"

Harry waved away his questions with a small smile, "come on Malfoy, that's not important now." He turned his solemn green eyes on the boy sat beside him, "don't think I don't know what that was."

Malfoy looked down at the cold ground, pulling his legs towards his chest as he played with a half frozen twig, "why do you care anyway? It's not like I was going to die."

Harry chuckled, "well technically you would have; for a hundred years, maybe more."

Malfoy shrugged, "I would have woken up afterwards."

Harry shook his head, "so you were just going to abandon everything as it is now? Give up the fight, just like that?"

Malfoy looked at him sideways, calculating eyes watching him. "You think it's cowardly?"

Harry didn't look round, his eyes fixed on the lake, "no, not cowardly; perhaps selfish, but not cowardly." He sighed, running a long fingered hand through his hair. "Where's the fun in life if there's no battle to fight?"

Malfoy grinned, "you're warped Potter, truly twisted."

Harry grinned back at him, "would I be as fun if I wasn't?"

The two smiled and looked back at the lake. Malfoy made a small noise in the back of his throat as a tentacle ripped through the surface of the lake to pull the adventurous bird into its depths.

"They never learn." Harry observed with a smile.

They sat in companionable silence for a while longer, before Malfoy was no longer able to hide his soft snickering.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the boy beside him, but said nothing.

"Oh, would you look at us!" Malfoy burst out, turning to look back at the lake with a smile, "we're practically mortal enemies, yet here we are sitting at the lake having a civil conversation!"

Harry smiled, "a civil conversation about the merits of life and death over a century of temporary potion induced death," he pointed out with a grin. "Come now Malfoy, we've always been far from orthodox."

The boy beside him laughed, "you're right, orthodox we are not."

It wasn't long before the sun started to set, and with a soft sigh Malfoy stood, "well, I should probably be going now, I'll talk to you later Potter."

Harry looked up at his enemies retreating back, "hey Malfoy, don't do it again, okay?"

The thin blonde turned back to him, "why not Potter?"

Harry smiled as he turned back to the lake, "because then who would I fight with?"

Malfoy snorted, "warped Potter, warped." Then he was gone; trudging across the crisp snow back towards the hulking grey mass of the castle.

Harry watched the rippling surface of the lake calmly; it had been an interesting day. With a soft smile he wondered, had his enemy stood a little taller when he left?

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Well, there you go, I hope everyone likes it! XD

You've come all this way, is it really that much more effort to push the button and tell me what you think?


	4. Shaking Survival

Hiya peeps!

Well oh my GOD it's been a long time! I'm so super sorry! In any case, I have no excuse, and all I can do is beg forgiveness with this new chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never has been, never will be. Quit rubbing it in my face.

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Harry wandered the halls idly, his breath sending chilly puffs of grey sweeping from his lips. There were no classes, no friends to talk with, and no teachers harassing him; it could perhaps have been called a lovely day. What was not lovely about it was the defining feature it was missing; the element he would remember the next day.

Making his way towards the great hall he smiled to himself; Malfoy was in his usual seat. Harry seated himself quietly beside Neville, grabbing himself a couple of slices of toast, some sausages, and some eggs.

"Morning Potter", the voice was as cool and calculating as usual, sending a familiar thrill through his system.

"Morning Malfoy" he said looking up, "I can see you're all better; you weren't at dinner last night, so I figured you were sick."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously, "no, not sick, just couldn't bring myself to sit across from your ugly mug, how unfortunate that it should be here before me yet again."

Harry grinned but didn't reply, instead opting to stuff his face with the steaming sausages before him. He noticed with a smile that Neville was engaged so deeply in his conversation with a certain dark skinned Slytherin, that he hadn't even noticed Harry's arrival.

Harry ate quietly, every now and then letting his gaze wander over the features of the boy seated across from him. Malfoy was looking a little healthier, but didn't seem at all interested in his food; spending more time pushing it around his plate than actually eating it. His eyes were slightly sunken; he looked as though he hadn't slept in a week.

That just wouldn't do.

Draco finished about a third of his meal, before standing and excusing himself. Harry remained in his seat, finishing off his breakfast to an entertaining, though quite boring conversation between his dorm-mate and the Slytherin sat beside him.

"No really!" Neville was exclaiming, "I would give almost anything to have a Trillian plant, but I could never afford one, and they're too rare to get my hands on anyway!"

Blaise chuckled quietly to himself, "well then isn't it handy that I happen to have one growing back home?" at the incredulous look on Neville's face he burst out laughing, "I suppose the next time I go home I will have to get a cutting for you, eh?"

Harry grinned as it looked like Neville was restraining himself from simply throwing himself into Zabini's arms. With a sigh he put his knife and fork down, and excused himself from the two chattering teens; it was time to do something about his little problem.

Walking briskly through the halls he slid into the shadows of a small corridor, before pulling the Marauder's map from his pocket.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He located his target quickly, and headed off in the correct direction with a quietly mumbled, "mischief managed."

Making sure to keep his steps soundless, Harry entered the empty classroom silently, moving to stand before the dishevelled teen sat atop the teacher's desk. "Why do you look so dreary Malfoy?" he questioned softly, slipping the cloak from his shoulders.

Malfoy jumped violently, his eyes going wide with shock as he startled almost painfully, before a scowl alighted on his tired features. "How did you find me Potter, and what are you doing here?"

Harry took a step closer, his eyes level with the Slytherin's, "how I found you is irrelevant, I'm here to make sure you understand something."

The other boy eyed him warily, slipping from his position atop the desk. They were eye to eye and barely a foot apart when he hissed quietly, "and what might that be?"

Harry caught the blonds' chin in his hand calmly, before pushing him forward, and back against the desk. Malfoy refused to back down, and swatted his hand away, stubbornly keeping himself standing, "what is this Potter?" he said venomously.

The raven haired boy eyed him, "I'm testing you; seeing if you're really all there."

Malfoy's eyes darkened, "of course I am, and I don't need this from you!" He pushed the other away from him, moving away from the desk and turning his back on the Gryffindor. "I am not one of your friends, and I do not need your concern. My life is my own, to do with as I will."

Harry nodded, though it went unseen, "I saved you from a hundred years of temporary death last night, yet you are acting as if I had not. Is that truly what you think Malfoy?" he asked quietly, "that your life is your own?"

Malfoy turned to the other with a frown, but before he could speak was thrown back against the wall, his breath knocked out of him. Harry pressed the other into the wall further, his eyes locking with the blonds', "then I am here to tell you that it is not."

Malfoy growled, shoving against the other hard as he attempted to escape his crushing hold against the wall; his breath tight.

"If all you're going to do with your life is move it through time, then I will be here to take it from you." Harry eased up slightly, allowing the Slytherin to breath, "I need you here to keep me sane, do you understand me Malfoy?"

He released the other boy fully, and moved to pick up his cloak and pass back out through the doorway. Just before he left, he looked back at the coughing and spluttering teen.

"You cannot wither away, nor can you let your wounds get the better of you, Malfoy. Here and now I am telling you that I, if no one else, need you here." He spoke quietly, though his words conveyed no emotion, "I am validating your existence."

He shrugged his cloak up, and disappeared into the hall.

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Well there you go, I hope it was okay!

You've come this far, why not push the button and make my day?


	5. Grim Generosity

Hiya peeps!

Well this is a quick update for me! I hope you enjoy it!!!

Well, I thought that perhaps we've had enough of Harry's point of view for now…time for a change of scenery! XD

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, never was, never will be.

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Malfoy sighed tiredly as he let his head alight softly on the silken pillow, his eyes wearily seeking out the cracks in the ceiling above him. He was offended, and angry, so very angry! So why did he feel more like resting now? And why had he just picked up that apple and eaten it, when a few hours before the idea of food had seemed horrid to him.

His life felt barren, cursed, and overshadowed. Everyone in his family was a criminal; was scum. Silently, he reflected on if he was the scummiest of them all; being the only one to abandon the family morale. He had denied the code, had denied his father's orders.

Yet what did he have to show for it? Defying his father to take that final step into darkness did not dismiss his personality or actions; he was not a good person. Nor was he kind or friendly, and that was reflected in just how few people cared for him. He had no friends and no real family; though their title and assets were his.

He reasoned that in this time, here and now, he had nothing to live for. His name and actions were carved in the minds of everyone around him, and would be until the day they died. But in one hundred years, none of them would be alive. That had been the reasoning behind his drastic measures, and he had been about to succeed.

That was until Potter burst in, forcing the peaceful brew right back out through his lips with a stab of wrenching agony, before dousing him with ice-cold water, sending a painful shock right through his body. He had been disoriented, in pain, shocked and hurt. And worst of all, it was Potter doing it. He feared that when he next awoke he would be in a terrible position; his life in the hands of his most hated enemy.

Yet he had woken on a bed of soft grass, lent gently against the trunk of a tree, with the mysterious boy sat beside him. He was still in pain then, and angry. After forcing the pain down he had tried to leave, to get away and understand what was happening; why he wasn't a hundred years from this time and starting anew.

Potter had forced him to stay, had forced him to explain. Perhaps most shocking to Draco was the teen's knowledge of potions, and his understanding of Draco; calling him selfish rather than cowardly. With a start Draco realised that he had sat there for longer than he needed too, that he had talked with the boy, and he had enjoyed it.

He scowled at himself for being so relaxed then, he hated the thought of how weak it must have made him look. He'd left the raven-haired boy there before the lake, his final words ringing sharply through Draco's mind.

But this morning had been different; he felt cold again. The food looked and smelt rancid to him; making his stomach churn uncomfortably. Potter had been there, his usual smarmy grin greeting him with words meant to strike deeper that the surface. 'Sick' he had called Draco, perhaps that was how he saw it. But Draco wasn't sick, at best he was just sick of the people around him, of the feelings they invoked in his gut.

He'd gone somewhere to get away from them all, a pass-time he had been indulging in a lot lately; scouting out an empty classroom and filling it with his silence. Yet it seemed nowhere was safe from Potter; he had found him quickly. The boy had slid from the air before him, shocking and alarming him. All he had wanted was to be alone, and even that was taken away from him.

He'd been angered, had said menacingly that it was none of the boy's business…and had been thrown against a wall for it. But the things Potter had said…they were mind boggling. Draco didn't know what they meant, nor why they had been said. But worst of all was the feeling in the bottom of his gut, the one that said that whatever had happened, it had been a good thing.

Potter had disappeared right in front of him, whisked away under his magical cloak. The room felt stark and empty, bereft of his presence.

And he had been left behind, shocked, dazed and hurt, but most of all angry. The boy had pushed him around, bullied and prodded him, and still left him feeling the better for it. It angered him to no end, and he tossed restlessly on his bed remembering it.

Yet he had eaten, and now he was resting, the air of his room still faintly tainted with the aromatic smell of the potion. He curled and twisted, he was restless but so tired, so very, very tired. He rolled onto his side, his limbs curling lazily into place. His eyes fell on the green stain that looked as though it had spread from beneath his bathroom door. It would be permanent, a thing that was unchangeable by magic or time. A lump rose in his stomach as he realised that was the nature of the potion he had brewed; had he taken it, there would be no going back. Everyone he knew would be gone from his life.

He had thought that was what he wanted.

"_Hey Malfoy, don't do it again, okay?"_ The boy's softly spoken words had lodged in his mind.

"_Because then who would I fight with?" _

Malfoy's eyes slid closed gently, his racing thoughts turning mellow as he drifted tiredly on his bed of black silk, Potter's last words ringing through his mind…

_I am validating your existence…_

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Well there you go!

Hmmm, I'm a little upset not many people who read this are reviewing, perhaps it's not as good as I had hoped for… ToT

Please review and let me know what you think!


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